Someone Like You
by lollapalozzafanatic83
Summary: Henry Puttrelli thinks his dreams have come true when he meets Hermione Granger until things don't add up and he wonders if she crazy for him too...or just simply crazy. One sided H/Hr, Hr/OC, mentions H/G, R/LB


A.N. I have no idea where this came from! But while I was rereading reviews from Find Your Love I decided I wanted to write a prequel or sequel for that but then Someone Like You by Adele came on my Pandora and while I had heard the song many many times before (it's one of my favorites), I had never thought of it in this way. Enjoy and please Read and Review so I know whether or not it was liked.

Disclaimer: Pretty much I own nothing. In fact, my mother owns me. :/

Someone Like You

Henry Puttrelli wasn't used to being approached by beautiful females so when Hermione Granger walked up to him in his favorite pub (he went at least once a week, sometimes twice if he'd had a rough day), he knew that it must've been his lucky night.

"Hi," she said and the first thing he noticed was red lipstick around pearly whites. "I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger. May I sit?" She gestured to the bar stool next to him and Henry tripped over his words to assure her that he wanted her there.

"I'm Henry," he finally got out.

"I know," she replied, a coy smile on her face.

She went home with him that night, and the nights that followed until they had been dating for 5 months and he seemed to know nothing about her.

"What's your favorite color?" he asked one night as they snuggled in front of the TV.

She froze in his arms and again Henry wondered if he had overstepped some invisible boundary.

"Green," she finally answered.

He watched tears fall down her cheeks that she hastily wiped away and he wondered why if green was her favorite color acknowledging it made her cry.

A week later, Henry came home from work to find Hermione in his apartment foyer dressed in nothing but a lacy bra and matching thong. The blood rushed from his head but he struggled to remain sensible.

"Hermione? What's this?"

"I think it's time that we take the next step in our relationship, Henry," she replied, a strange look on her face at the end of her statement. "I don't want to wait anymore."

Henry didn't need to hear anything more and swept her into his arms.

When it was over, Hermione lay on her back, staring at the ceiling and breathing steadily. Henry looked at her but she continued to be lost in thought and it made Henry worry. Did she have as good of a time as he did? Did she regret what just happened? Henry felt that them consummating their love was just confirmation that she was the one for him but maybe she didn't feel the same. Henry knew he wasn't the most attractive. He wore wire rimmed round glasses, he didn't always comb his black hair, and was a bit overweight but he knew that he could make Hermione happy if she let him.

"Hermione?" he finally asked when she hadn't said anything after 20 minutes. "Is everything okay?"

She looked at him, an eery calm on her face. "You ask too many questions," she said leaning over and kissing him on the lips hard.

As they made love again, Henry thought he heard her call out _Harry_ but he just assumed he heard wrong.

For Hermione's birthday a month later, the big 25, Henry wanted to throw her a surprise birthday party for her but he realized that he didn't know any of her friends. After dinner where he had made chicken parmigiana and Hermione's favorite, treacle tart, for dessert, he approached the subject.

"'Mione-" he started.

"Don't call me that," she snapped as she finished her dessert carefully. "Only Ha-" She broke off and there was an awkward silence until Henry broke it.

"Okay. Hermione. I wanted to throw you a surprise birthday party for your 25th birthday-"

She cut him off again. "This is fine." She didn't meet his eyes.

"Yes. This is nice. But I don't know any of your friends. You've met all my friends-"

"You don't have any friends."

"Sure I do. Remember Tyler from work? And his wife?"

"He doesn't like you." Her voice was calm and controlled, as if she was telling him it was going to rain next Tuesday. "And his wife looks like an ostrich." Henry was stung but he knew Hermione didn't mean it. Besides, Tyler's wife did look like an ostrich.

"Well you've met them and it feels like I don't know anything about you or your life. I've never met your friends or your parents. I don't even know where you live or what you do for work or-"

"I told you I worked for a part of the government that no one can know about."

"Yes. I understand that. But what your friends? I don't even know their names. The only reason I know they exist is because you go out with them on Friday nights and you seem so much happier because of it." Henry paused, afraid to voice his fear but unable to keep it in any longer. "Are you ashamed of me?"

Hermione finally looked up at him. She burst into laughter, a deep, belly aching laughter with a maniacal edge to it that set the hair Henry's neck on end. She stood up taking her dessert plate with her and went into the kitchen, still laughing. Henry sat there hurt.

Later that night as Henry crawled into bed, Hermione rolled over to him and snuggled up to him.

"We can meet my friends next week if you want to. I'm not ashamed of you," she said sleepily and Henry's heart fluttered in the dark room. He nodded slowly, afraid she would change her mind and she cuddled deeper into his side. He soon heard soft snores coming for her and they lulled him to sleep.

Henry was uncomfortable. Across the table at the crowded pub sat Hermione's friend Ron, a redhead with a big appetite, and Ron's wife, Lavender, a blonde, who seemed to fit the stereotype. Then there was Ron's sister, Ginny, also a redhead, who was engaged in conversation with Lavender. She seemed nice and went out of her way to make him feel welcome but Henry couldn't help but watch the way her eyes would drift over the two directly to Henry's left.

Besides the fact that everyone seemed to in on some joke that he couldn't understand, Harry Potter, Ginny's husband, was the ultimate reason for Henry's uneasiness. It could've been the fact that he looked uncannily like Henry or the fact that Hermione had lightened up when she saw him in a way that she never looked at Henry. Or maybe it was the fact that Harry and Hermione were engaged in a private conversation that had the two leaning towards each other, Hermione's hand on Harry's knee, Harry's hand covering hers and they were sitting very close together.

Needless to say, Henry's insecurities were rearing their ugly heads. Harry was everything Henry wasn't: tall, tanned, and athletic. His hair looked windswept and like he ran his hands through it a lot (or had someone to do it for him) whereas Henry's hair was greasy and never combed. Harry even made round wire rimmed glasses attractive or perhaps it was the green eyes behind them.

Henry didn't like the way watching Hermione and Harry interact made him feel. He felt that should trust Hermione and not be a possessive boyfriend but he couldn't ignore the way Hermione smiled at Harry or how she had taken more care in her appearance that night. But instead of voicing his opinion, he sipped his beer and sat back, wishing the night would end quickly.

Things had gotten better after Hermione's birthday. She had finally showed him where she lived and while Henry knew there wasn't anything he could do about her not including him in hanging out with her friends, he was content.

One evening, he decided to surprise Hermione with dinner at her place and headed over. He knocked but when she didn't answer he reached over the door for where he knew her spare key was (he had accidentally found it) and opened the door. Instead of the nicely furnished apartment he was expecting to see, the entire apartment was bare. Confused, he walked around to where Hermione's bedroom was. Thoughts of a possible robbery were dashed when he found a mattress on the floor with rumpled sheets and several books scattered next to it. He reached down to one that was open and found Hermione's handwriting in it. He was curious; finally he would know what was inside her head the day they met.

_Dear Diary, March 12_

_I finally talked to him, the man in the bar that looks like Harry. At first I thought it was crazy, to try to replace Harry with a random Muggle man but Henry (that's his name!) seems to really be into me and if I give one man a bit of happiness then what's crazy about that?_

Henry was disturbed but kept reading.

_Dear Diary August 24 _

_I realized that I can't keep holding on to Harry no matter how much I love him. He's my everything but if I don't let him go then I might end up alone, watching him with his wife. I'm going to have sex with Henry tonight. Maybe I'll feel something for him then._

_Dear Diary August 25_

_I felt nothing the first time. But when I imagined Henry as Harry it felt like heaven, like the great lover I imagined Harry to be. I think I may have even slipped up and called Henry Harry. It doesn't matter though. I only had a taste of being Harry and I want more. If I ever got my chance to be with Harry in that way...I blush to think of the things I would do. I'm not at all proud about what I'm doing. I'm afraid Henry's falling for me but if this is as close as I get to being Harry then I'll take it. Who knows? Maybe I'll fall for Henry. _

_Dear Diary September 20_

_Yesterday was my birthday. Henry made dinner and treacle tart (Harry's favorite). There was a candle on the treacle tart and I wished for Henry to be Harry and I couldn't stop thinking about all throughout dessert. Henry wants to meet the gang but I cant bear to look pathetic in front of Ginny. She would be able to see through the ruse and know that I'm only with Henry because I'm in love with her husband. But I cant keep putting Henry off. He's starting to get on my nerves. He keeps on saying he loves me but I just don't return his feelings, no matter how hard I try. My heart belongs to Harry and I think I hate Henry for not being him. _

_Dear Diary September 24_

_I bought a little flat in Muggle London to let Henry think I lived there. I bought it under a different name so that my friends wouldn't know. He's getting even harder to tolerate. All his questions like why he cant come when I go meet up my friends. Well he thinks its everyone but my weekly dinners are just for me and Harry and I don't want Henry there messing everything up. Sometimes I think I could just-_

"So I guess you know now." Henry spun around, guilt bubbling up in his throat, followed by hurt and anger.

"How could you? I love you! Does that mean anything to you?" he screamed at her throwing her diary down.

" Of course. I'm honestly quite flattered," Hermione said, not looking at him. "But you're not Harry."

Enraged, Henry grabbed her by her chin and forced her to look at him. "Look at me dammit! What can I do to make this work?" Tears were streaming down his face as he put his hands on her shoulders but he didn't care. He couldn't lose the only person he had ever loved.

She stared at him with a blank look. "You can be Harry."

Henry shut his eyes in despair. "I cant do that."

"Then you're of no use to me" Henry felt a sharp pain in his stomach and he doubled over, grabbing for the knife that Hermione wielded but she was too fast. He felt what seemed to be a at least 40 stabs before he blacked out.

Later, Hermione sat in the corner of the bedroom, Henry's body in the middle of the floor and Henry's blood all over her. She stood and looked at her watch. 6:00. Harry would be waiting if she didn't hurry. She calmly stepped over Henry and into the adjoining bathroom to have a shower. Once that was done, she conjured a cocktail dress, green like Harry's eyes, and black heels. She stepped over Henry's rigor mortis stiffened body, went into the hallway and out the door, locking it behind her.


End file.
